


Long Way Down

by Baamon5evr



Series: 14 Days of Samsteve [12]
Category: Captain America (Movies), Marvel, Marvel Cinematic Universe
Genre: Alternate Universe - Zombie Apocalypse, Anal Sex, Angst and Fluff and Smut, Bottom Sam Wilson, Hallucinations, M/M, Mental Health Issues, Oral Sex, POV Steve Rogers, Past Character Death, Past Rape/Non-con, Past Violence, Top Steve Rogers
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-03-17
Updated: 2017-03-17
Packaged: 2018-10-06 10:38:40
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 21,558
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10332791
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Baamon5evr/pseuds/Baamon5evr
Summary: Steve does not want to be involved with people. He's already dealing with a zombie apocalypse and the fact that he can see and speak to his dead friends. Then Sam comes into the picture and changes everything.





	

Steve was a loner and he always had been. It was true he thrived around people but he had never liked anyone doing anything for him and so he learned how to get along by himself. He didn't know it was going to become such a drastic part of his life but shit happened. In this case, some military lab let out a biological weapon and it ravaged the world. It kick-started an epidemic which turned into a pandemic and soon 70% of the world's population was dead. That wasn't the end of it though. Those who died came back as undead beasts to finish off the rest of the living.

With that being the state of the world, Steve thought he was doing well for himself. He had zombie killing down pact and could hold his own against the other threats. He was resourceful and he only hallucinated four times a week now.

"That's progress." Natasha said dryly beside him where before she hadn't existed.

"It's like saying I'm only 30% crazy where before I was 50." Bucky added.

"Don't listen to them. Any progress is still progress." Peggy said from his left side. Steve looked over at her and she smiled encouragingly at him. It was so much like the real Peggy that it scared him because consciously it'd been so long for him that he couldn't remember her smile or Bucky's eyes or Natasha's voice, only the screams and sounds of flesh being ripped from bone and the laughing of their malicious captors. But in these moments the hallucinations presented themselves with perfect clarity and every forgotten detail rushed back until the hallucinations left and he forgot again. The yo-yo dichotomy of it all would've exhausted or killed him by now if he hadn't accepted it as quickly as he had and used these apparitions to his advantage.

Peggy was the supportive voice. She gave him the confidence he needed to follow through on his decisions and didn't let him beat himself up or be weary for too long. Bucky and Natasha were different. They motivated him to survive by any means necessary. Sometimes it was as simple as pointing out animals to hunt or zombies to put down. Other times it was giving him the strength and resolve to kill other people before they killed him.

Logically, he knew it was all him. They were just parts of himself projected into forms he was comfortable with confronting but without them he wouldn't have survived. However, that didn't mean they always agreed and this situation perfectly exemplified that.

Someone was screaming.

Steve froze on the spot and looked in the direction the screams were coming from. He chose this forest to roam because he knew it well and knew no one else was around. Any zombies that tried to attack him he could hear easily thanks to the dense foliage in the area and he had some booby traps set up. That wasn't a zombie screaming though, that was a person.

"Poor sucker." Natasha commented.

"Yup, bad luck." Bucky agreed.

"Are you kidding me? He's not dead. We have to help him." Peggy protested while the other two gave her bored looks. She turned her imploring gaze on Steve when they didn't budge. He sighed deeply in response. The worst part was that he knew Peggy was right. No, the worst part was knowing that all three of them was one part or other of himself and that he desired everything they did and was arguing with himself about it.

He took a second to appreciate the fact that he understood his mind this well. If the zombie apocalypse offered nothing else, it gave him the time and solitude needed to contemplate and learn (or relearn) himself. He snapped out of it as another scream tore through the air.

"He's going to attract corpses. We should go." Natasha said, looking around critically.

"On second thought, maybe we should check it out. We're getting antsy." Bucky said, practically bouncing with pent up energy. Those two agreed on most things but Natasha was certainly more fueled by self-preservation as opposed to Bucky who could be extremely gung-ho about killing zombies when the mood struck. He didn't like being idle or moving slow.

"As long as we help him we can kill as much dead things as you want. We're taking too long as it is." Peggy negotiated, looking ready to run off any second.

"It's probably a trap." Natasha pointed out.

"You don't know that."

"I know we're with Steve for a reason and it's not because we all lived happily ever after."

"That was totally different, we were..." The two's arguing voices faded into the background as Steve rubbed at his temples and then let his fingers run down his face, catching on his beard ever-so-slightly, before dropping down at his sides. Yeah, this was definitely the worst part. He glanced at Bucky who wasn't adding to the argument. Instead he was watching them with a slight smirk and shrugged nonchalantly when Steve looked at him.

"So, what'll it be, punk?" He asked. Steve shook his head again before taking a deep breath and running towards the screams. He kept low and hid behind the lush but overgrown greenery.

When he came upon the scene he saw a man standing on a boulder. He was mostly naked save for a long, worn purple T-shirt that had dirt and blood splattered on it. Half his face was a bruise with his left eye looking like it was just coming off being swollen shut and dried blood around various parts of his face. There were three zombies reaching up at him as he stood just out of their reach with no weapons and a tree blocking his route of escape.

Steve reached behind him and pulled his bow around in front of him before pulling some arrows out of his backpack. He quickly dispatched the three zombies and watched the man stare at them with confusion as they lay on the floor, arrows through their heads. He contemplated just leaving but resources were invaluable now and those were three perfectly good arrows. He walked out of the woods towards the man who stared down at him with fear. Steve stared back before breaking eye contact and pulling his arrows out of the zombies' skulls.

"Um, hi." The man said. Steve glanced up at him but didn't speak.

"I-I'm Sam." Steve didn't offer his name, just focused on cleaning the infected blood off his arrows. The man carefully climbed down from the rock, avoiding contact with the decaying bodies on the ground. Steve cataloged his movements but didn't turn to him.

"I'm kind of lost. I was running away from... well, I was running. I wasn't paying attention and I lost my sense of direction, can't find the way back to my camp." Steve wordlessly stood up and began walking away.

"Hey!" Sam called, running in front of him.

"I'm... look, I don't like asking a stranger for help. You could be anyone but I'm desperate and lost, so can you help me?" Steve looked him up and down from his dirt caked feet to his bruised legs to his scratched arms which showed defensive wounds most likely from a person since they didn't look infected. His face looked worse up close with bruises littering it. He was clearly helpless. He didn't even have anything to defend himself with. Helping with those zombies was more than enough intervention from Steve. He wanted nothing else to do with this man.

"No." He said hoarsely. He didn't think about the effort it took just to speak that one word as he once again walked away. He didn't hear anything for a while before footsteps began following after him. He glanced back at the man to see him following after him. When Steve rose an eyebrow at him, Sam gave him a slightly defiant look. Steve would be impressed if he wasn't annoyed but he chose to ignore him. Maybe if he did so long enough he'd go away.

~*~*~

The man wouldn't leave.

It had been hours since they first encountered each other and it was nearing nightfall but the man continued to follow him in silence. Steve did his best to ignore him but he was hyper-aware of his footsteps scrapping through the leaves behind him, so he perked up the second the man's feet started to sound like they were dragging. It was only a couple more steps past that when he heard his body hit the ground. Steve stopped but didn't turn to look at his unwanted companion.

"We should just leave him; we didn't ask him to come." Natasha said.

Steve was startled at her presence. He'd manage to cut back on his hallucinations to just one a day but he supposed it made sense. He hadn't encountered anyone living in some time, not since he came across Clint and he was dead now. Encountering someone again threw all parts of him off kilter.

"All the more reason to leave him. We'll stick him in a hollow tree for the night or something." Bucky added with a careless shrug.

"We can't do that." Peggy said softly, coming around to stare him in the face rather than bother with Bucky or Natasha.

"Either the zombies will find him and turn him or whoever he was running from will and I doubt they'll be kind."

"Why should that be my problem?" Steve asked her. Who cared if he was talking to himself? There was no one to see.

"Because you need him. Drifting through life alone isn't going to cut it forever. He said he had a camp.”

“I’m not—”

“Even if we don't stay there at least we'll have a purpose. That's more than we do now." Steve stared at her before his eyes drifted behind him. Sam was passed out face first in the brush. He was breathing but it didn't seem like he was waking any time soon. Steve sighed heavily and started walking towards him.

"What are we even here for?" Natasha murmured to Bucky. Steve stared down at the man who had already disrupted his routine to the point of annoyance. He'd get rid of him as soon as he could, he decided. Once he woke up and wasn't on the brink of keeling over Steve would leave no matter what Peggy said.

~*~*~

Steve had spent ample time around this area of Georgia. He knew it like the back of his hand by now so it wasn't hard to find some place to set up as camp for the night. He didn't like going into the more residential areas, he preferred sticking to the woods to avoid human contact and large crowds of zombies so he carried Sam to a small cave in the woods. It was just big enough for Steve to fit himself and Sam inside if they stayed crouched or laying down. He set up some empty cans on barbed wire around the cave so he would be alerted of anyone or anything's presence should he doze off.

There was a small stream nearby and he gathered some water there. He knew how to start a fire but seeing as how Sam mentioned he was running from some people he decided against it. If anyone found them he could take care of it on his own but every time he killed another person it took something out of him. He didn't enjoy the thought of losing this unnamed elusive thing for a stranger. He figured Sam must be dehydrated and exhausted, possibly malnourished. Steve didn't have a monopoly on food but he taught himself to catch small rodents and he could collect nuts and tell which berries were edible and which were poisonous. He wasn't much in the way of medical care beyond basic CPR and first aid so if Sam had any real injuries he was shit-out-of-luck. If he died then it would hardly be Steve's fault, just nature taking its course.

He pushed away that line of thought and spent the night plying Sam with water and mashed up berries and nuts.

It took another two days for him to wake up. Steve kept close to him the whole time. He cleaned his scratches, kept him hydrated and warm or cool depending on the time of day and made sure nothing ate him. It wasn't unlike caring for a plant.

When Sam finally woke up Steve was out hunting but when he came back he was surprised to see the man standing up and staring at a zombie that had gotten caught in the barbed wire wrapped around the cave. The zombie mindlessly reached out towards Sam, it’s jaw snapping at him like it could taste his flesh in the air. Maybe it could. Sam stayed out of its reach and just stared. At least he wasn't completely clueless.

"Hey." Steve called, his voice rough from disuse. Sam looked over at him, surprise clear in his eyes.

"Thought you skipped out and left the trap just to be nice." He said, his voice heavy from his time unconscious.

"That'd be a waste of resources." Sam drew back slightly offended, but didn't say anything.

"I caught a few rabbits. You can finally get some meat into yourself, if you're capable of that." Sam glared at Steve then.

"I think I can manage it." Steve shrugged in response. He knew he was being prickly. He could blame it on the circumstances he found himself in but he was a sarcastic person before. Now it just came across as mean and he did nothing to correct it. There was no point, this guy would be gone in a week, two at most.

"You should sit down; you look like you're about to fall over. I didn't spend the last two days keeping you alive for you to literally fall into a zombie's arms."

"Wait, two days?"

"Guess whatever you're running from caught up to you." Sam shifted from one foot to the other. The bruises on his legs looked slightly better. His eye looked almost normal now besides some faint puffiness and the bruises on his face were yellowing. Soon there would be no evidence of whatever happened to him besides the bloody t-shirt he wore as his only source of clothing.

No physical evidence anyway.

"Don't worry, I'm not going to ask. It's not my business and I don't want to know." He could hazard a good guess anyway. Sam opened and closed his mouth before nodding.

"Thanks for not asking and for taking care of me."

"Don't thank me. I didn't ask because I don't want the trouble later and I was getting bored before you showed up." Sam scoffed in response.

"Well, don't worry. I'll be out of your hair soon and you can go back to your monotony."

"Can't wait." Sam huffed before turning and crawling his way back into the cave. Steve glanced at the zombie still stuck in the barbed wire. It had managed to gouge the wire into its stomach. Steve rolled his eyes in response. The damn things were as annoying now as they probably were when they were human.

"You're cleaning zombie guts off the barbed wire, by the way. Might as well make yourself useful." Steve called after him.

"I liked you better when we didn't talk. Let's go back to that." Sam replied. Steve was just fine with that.

~*~*~

They don't talk for another three days. Sam heals more and more and Steve feels sweet freedom coming closer the more each cut scabs over and each bruise yellows. The ghosts in his head have been as quiet as Sam has been and Steve couldn't ask for more. He enjoyed the blessed silence.

He and Sam couldn't stay solitary in that spot of the forest forever. Steve packed up to leave the day after Sam woke up and the other man wordlessly followed Steve. They walked on the roadside together. Steve didn't like the visibility it lent them but there were markers he'd created on the road to help him tell where he was going. Sam didn't ask him where they were headed, he just followed him. They seldom stopped to rest. Steve had military training, he was fine with little rest and lots of moving and they had nuts, berries and dried pieces of rabbit to eat. And best of all: silence.

"Can we stop?" Sam asked.

_Well, that was nice while it lasted._

"You can stop if you want to."

"Are you going to leave me?"

"Yes." Sam sighed but Steve still heard his bare feet hitting the asphalt rhythmically. There was quiet for a minute more before Sam spoke again.

"I need to stop."

"Then stop."

"Will you please not be an ass for two minutes? I don't have any shoes on and my feet hurt."

"So, stop and rest. If you get eaten by zombies or those guys find you I'm sure your precious feet won't hurt then." Sam didn't reply to that and there was his beloved silence for all of thirty seconds before he noticed a sound picking up.

_No, he's not..._

Steve glanced behind him and, yes, Sam was crying. His shoulders shook as his head stayed down, his eyes firmly turned to the ground, but he was definitely crying.

"Okay, I think we can all agree that at this point we gotta drop the dead weight." Natasha said, appearing before him, walking backwards. Steve felt annoyance rise in him. If his peace was going to be broken might as well go all the way, he supposed.

"I mean, look at him. What use is he to us?" She asked.

"He's going to get us killed. I’m sure he’ll be fine, let’s just leave him.” Bucky added shrugging. Steve paused waiting for Peggy to say something. She didn’t. She just walked beside him and glanced back at Sam. Steve wondered if he was doing the same seeing as how she was him but he didn’t bother dwelling on it. He wondered why she didn’t say anything but there was more in her silence than anything else.

He sighed to himself. He should be happy about this, his better half was winning a lot more lately, but he just felt annoyed by all of this. This was more interaction than he wanted to have and more effort into talking to people than he wanted to exhaust. He turned around to face Sam and he wracked his brain for something comforting to say but instead what came out was,

“What are you doing?” Sam glanced up at him, his wet eyes shining with confusion.

“What?”

“Stop doing that.”

“Doing what?”

“Crying.”

“Well, I’m sorry if it bothers you so much but between the facts that I’m stuck in a zombie apocalypse, lost from my camp, was attacked by a group of disgusting rapists and now I’m stuck walking down this bumpy fucking street with no shoes or pants on with a guy who happens to be the biggest dickhead on Earth, aforementioned rapists included, I think I have a right to feel however I want to feel. If that means crying, then that’s what I’m going to do. Ignore it if you don’t want to listen to it. You’re good at that anyway.”

“I’m not saying you can’t, I’m saying… you should just… you know, chin up.” Steve said, stumbling over his words. He finished it all off with a small punch to the other man’s arm. Sam looked at him with confusion again.

“What was that?”

“I was… I was trying to make you feel better. My friend used to do that to me.”

“And did it make you feel better?”

“Not really.” Steve mumbled to himself. He took a few steps towards Sam but stopped as Sam took a step back from him.

“Look, I’m trying to level with you. We can’t just stop out here. It's dangerous, we might be seen. There’s a department store about ten minutes’ walk away. I got the barbed wire from the hardware section there. It’s clear of any food or weapons but we can stop and get some clothes for you and shoes. Maybe some camping gear too.”

“Won’t there be zombies inside?”

“I cleared it out when I started staying around here. Can you just hold out for ten minutes?” Sam nodded after a moment and walked up to fall into step beside him rather than behind. They were silent for another few minutes before Sam spoke up.

“I know you think I’m weak and useless but I’ve survived this long. I’ve faced things a lot worse than these zombies and I can handle people better than you think I can. I’m not going to get you killed.” Sam said. Steve didn’t reply to that. They’d just have to wait and see.

~*~*~

The department store’s parking lot had a few zombies milling about but it was nothing to bother themselves over. Steve took Sam to the clothing section and left him there to his own devices while he went to the camping section. He grabbed some more barbed wire as well as ropes for his traps and trekking poles that he could use for weapons. Maybe he could shave the kid sized ones down to make arrows if he found the time and a sharp enough knife. He'd been using branches for arrows thus far. He turned around to leave before grabbing a pack hanging from the wall and wandering back over to the clothing section. He didn’t see Sam immediately but he could hear him rummaging around in the dressing rooms near this section. After a moment, he came out wearing a gray thermal along with a pair of dark jeans.

“Better?” Steve asked nonchalantly. Sam glanced at him with an indecipherable emotion on his face before answering.

"Wish I could take a shower but at least I have clothes."

“Maybe we'll pass a stream again at some point. Here. I figured you might want to put some extra clothes in here.” Steve said, thrusting the pack at him. Sam looked mildly surprised.

“Thanks.” Steve didn't acknowledge the gratitude, instead he nodded for Sam to follow him to the shoe section. He sat on a bench as Sam looked over the shoes and ultimately chose a pair of work boots and some running sneakers.

“I should probably clean my feet before I put these on. You think they still have a first aid kit hanging out around here?”

“Maybe behind the counter.” Sam and Steve walked over to the registers and thankfully Steve found a kit just under the POS machine along with some rubbing alcohol and hydrogen peroxide. He gestured for Sam to sit on the counter.

“You don’t have to, I can do it.” He protested.

“I know.” Steve replied.

“Really? Because you seem to think I’m barely capable of remembering to breath.”

“I get it. I’ve been an asshole to you, I’m sorry. I’m not used to being around people again. Will you just sit up there so I can clean your feet?” Sam still stared at him undecidedly.

“Please?” Steve tacked on. He sighed before hopping up onto the counter. Steve kneeled down and pulled his pack off his back, pulling out the flashlight he had inside and shining it on Sam’s foot. His feet were dirty from walking around the forest all this time so Steve used the hydrogen peroxide along with a piece of cloth he had in his pack to clean Sam’s feet free of the dirt. It revealed a few superficial wounds on his feet, cuts from the gravel and perhaps some glass he may have encountered. He applied the rubbing alcohol to sterilize the wounds.

“Sorry.” He mumbled as Sam flinched. After that he went about applying some of the bacitracin from the kit to his cuts.

“You should let them breath before you put on the shoes. We can stay here for the night. It’s big but I’ll chain up the entrances and exits and we can sleep close to one of them just in case.” Steve said.

“Sounds like a plan. I’ll help you.”

“No, just stay there. Let the ointment sink in a little.” Sam looked like he was about to protest but he held off and nodded.

Steve stopped by the hardware section and picked up some chains before walking around the store and wrapping them on all the doors. He stopped by the camping section again and grabbed two sleeping bags before bringing them to the emergency exit. He got back to the registers and felt his heart sink when he saw that Sam was no longer there. He looked around frantically and then relaxed as he caught sight of him close by in the kids’ section. Steve strolled over and watched Sam stare at the children’s clothing with a sorrowful look on his face.

“Did you have kids?” Steve asked before he could stop himself.

“You don’t care.” Sam mumbled back. He shouldn’t but something about Sam throwing him in the lot with the people who had attacked him, people like the ones who killed Peggy, Natasha and Bucky, had rubbed him the wrong way.

“I asked, didn’t I?” Sam turned to face him.

“No, I didn’t have kids. I had three nieces though and two nephews. My brother’s family, his wife and three kids, they lived in New York and whether it was the virus or the bomb that the government dropped on the tristate area when things got really bad… they were all gone before I ever got a chance to say goodbye. My sister and her kids? It was before I found my camp, New Wakanda. Her husband got depressed, he didn’t see a point anymore. He didn’t want the kids to have to live in a world like this so he killed them. Said it was mercy. Sarah lost it and she killed him. She’s back at New Wakanda now but she’s never been the same, she’s just… kind of there. As soon as we got to the camp she became catatonic and nothing could snap her out of it.”

“You want to get back to your camp for her?”

“Among other reasons.” Steve looked down for a moment, his mind weighing pros and cons. He wondered if his mental companions would show up but he was alone with this decision. It wasn't his problem, he barely knew this man, but in a way, he almost felt like he had something to prove. He shouldn't but he couldn't stop his old mulish behavior from rearing its head.

“I’ll help you.”

“What?”

“I’ll help you find your camp. It’s not safe out here by yourself. Other than the obvious, the men who attacked you are still around here somewhere and they might not be the only ones. I’ll help you get home."

“I thought you didn’t want anything to do with me once I got better.”

“I changed my mind.”

“Why are you being so nice to me?” Sam asked, his voice almost accusatory.

“I need a reason?”

“You’ve been a dick this whole time and now you’ve done a complete 180. Yeah, I need you to give me a reason.”

“It’s… I… I wasn’t always like this. I was... I was nice."

"Somehow I can't see that." Sam said in a deadpan voice.

"Well, I was. And whatever my faults are now, I’m not like the people who attacked you. I’ll help you and then I’ll leave.”

“…thank you.”

“Let’s get some sleep.” Steve said, turning to walk away.

“Wait.” Sam called. Steve turned around to face him.

“You know, you haven’t told me your name yet.”

“Guess I haven’t.” Sam rose an eyebrow.

“Are you going to?”

“It’s Steve. Steve Rogers.”

“Oh.” Sam said flatly, causing Steve to straighten.

“What do you mean ‘oh’?”

“That just feels anticlimactic is all. I’ve been calling you all sorts of things in my head, not all of them nice, and your name just turns out to be Steve. It’s kind of a letdown.”

“What kind of name did you want me to have?”

“I don’t know. I was partial to Asshole McJerkface.”

“Really rolls off the tongue.”

“I thought so.” Sam replied. Steve shook his head, the corner of his mouth pulling up into a shadow of a smile which he quickly hid.

“Let’s go to sleep.”

~*~*~

Steve didn't usually enjoy being wrong but Peggy had been right about this (or was Steve right all along since Peggy was just him?) He found that the days didn't drag as much with Sam there now that they talked. Before leaving the store, they managed to find an axe by the second emergency exit and Sam had taken it as his weapon of choice. He'd proven himself worthy against the zombies despite Steve's initial misgivings about him and he probably had better survival skills than Steve did.

"Military training." Sam explained as the two sat around a crackling fire in the woods. It had been some time since they first met and Steve figured whoever had attacked Sam had moved on by now so he decided to risk making the fire. (Well, Sam made it because he had basic camping skills. A byproduct of his father frequently taking him to Mount Vernon to camp.)

"Yeah? What unit were you in?"

"Air force, 58th pararescue."

"I was army for a little while, the 107th, but mostly I was a marine, special forces." Sam paused for a moment before he chuckled humorlessly to himself.

"What's so funny?"

"I was just thinking about how little I know about you. I mean, just getting your name took almost a week and we've been together for two now." Steve wasn't expecting the trip to Sam's camp to take this long but his captors had driven him over state lines into Georgia from Virginia and they were making the trip on foot. They had to stop to gather supplies before leaving. Water was essential as was food and weapons and they needed a route Steve was comfortable with. As it was, they had just arrived to the border of South Carolina.

"Does it matter?" Steve asked, picking at the trail mix they found in a bloody, abandoned pack by a tree.

"To me it does. I tell you tons of things about myself."

"I don't ask, you just tell me."

"Well, I'm asking." Steve shrugged in response.

"How about this? Let's play 20 questions. It's a good icebreaker." Steve gave him a dubious look at that.

"I'm serious. Ask me a question."

"Why are we playing this stupid game?"

"Because despite the fact that you're nicer than you were when we first met, you're still prickly. Even though it's veered into the realm of charming by now I want to know you."

"I'm fine with you not knowing me."

"Well, I'm not. What's your favorite color?"

"You're not serious."

"I am." Steve rolled his eyes. He took a slow sip of water just to bother Sam but he looked at him with the patience of a saint.

"Blue." He said in a monotone voice.

"Okay… you're not going to tell me why?"

"No."

"Why not?"

"Because there's no rule that says I have to answer your questions the way you want me to."

"That's not fair." Sam said petulantly. Steve was half expecting him to throw his arms across his chest and huff like a child throwing a tantrum.

"Shit happens. And that was three questions which means the next three are mine."

"Fine. Go ahead." Sam replied grudgingly.

"I think I'm going to save my questions for later."

"Wh— no, you can't do that!"

"Yes I can. If I don't ask all three of mine, you can't ask yours." Steve smirked to himself as Sam actually crossed his arms over his chest and pouted.

"Jerkface."

"Hey, it's McJerkface, capital M and J. If you're going say it, get it right."

"I hate you."

"That's not what you said a second ago." Sam looked at him with slight confusion before rolling his eyes.

"So you think I'm charming, huh?"

"That is _not_ what I said."

"I'm pretty sure that's exactly what you said."

"What I meant was that there are some people, in general, who may find your overall shitty disposition appealing. Not that those people in any way reflect how I feel but— oh my god, I hate you."

"If I knew you had this huge crush on me, I would've been nicer to you sooner." Steve went on teasingly.

"I swear I hate you, Dickwad O'Tool."

"Ooh, a new nickname. I like the old one better." Sam scoffed as he got up and made his way to the tent, flipping Steve the bird as he did.

"I'm tempted to go back to not talking to you. And you only have two questions left." Steve chuckled to himself. He was doing that a lot more with Sam around.

"I like him." Bucky said across from him.

"Me too. There's something about him. He should stick around. Could be useful." Natasha added.

"Two weeks ago, you two told an opposite story." Peggy said, eyeing the two with disbelief.

"I have no idea what you're talking about." Steve sat back against a tree, content to let his phantoms fight amongst themselves while he listened to Sam rummage around the tent. Sam being there made him quickly become okay with a lot of things.

~*~*~

That night Steve dreamed memories and fantasies all wrapped up in one.

He dreamed about Peggy, Bucky and Natasha. He dreamed about life before the virus, of how they used to be. They were more like a family than friends. They all seemed suited to one another, not like they found missing pieces of themselves but more like there were spaces growing inside of them that allowed the others to fit perfectly inside. Then everything fell apart and those spaces within Steve held nothing but gnawing pain accentuated by their fading screams and all the bloodshed before and during and after.

Before his mind could snap under the weight of the dream/memory, he was brought back to a more jovial time. It was his first date with Peggy. He had been too nervous to ask her so she asked him instead. They had gone out to see some spy thriller she was excited about and then they went dancing. Steve wasn't much good but Peggy led them in a simple dance, twirling herself around and doing most of the fancy footwork.

"You're good at this." He commented.

"Years of being forced into ballroom dancing via my father. You're not so bad for a street rat." She retorted. Steve let out a good-natured laugh.

"Thanks for the lie but it's unnecessary." This was the part where she teased him some more. Bucky had mentioned to her that they had taken ballet because Bucky's sister didn't want to do it alone. Buck had a knack for it, Steve didn't. Peggy didn't tease him though, instead she stared at him intensely.

"It's okay, you know." She said.

"What is?"

"Liking him, being content. Perhaps almost happy."

"What are you—"

"You don't have to fight this war anymore. You can have a home if you tried." Peggy's words confused and confounded him. He spun her out with the sole purpose of collecting himself but when he pulled her back it wasn't her anymore, it was Sam.

Sam smiled brightly at him as he and Steve swayed back and forth.

"Imagine it." Sam said, his voice so wistfully optimistic it didn't even sound like the real Sam.

In his memory, this was when he first kissed Peggy. She had complained about how cliché it was later but it had been lightening and fireworks in the moment. Now it was Sam he was leaning into. The craziest thing was that he wanted to do it, he wanted to kiss him, if only in the privacy of his fantasies. Sam opened his mouth as if to say something but what came out was a growling moan. Steve jumped back and his eyes popped open.

He was disoriented by the blazing sunlight for a moment before the growling sounded again. His eyes widened as a zombie came stalking at him. He fell asleep outside the trap, he realized. He kicked the zombie away to give him some time to pull his knife. He reached towards his belt before cursing. He'd given his belt to Sam and his belt had his knife. His bow and arrow was with his pack in the tent. He reached in his pocket for his Swiss army knife, kicking the zombie away once more. Before he could fumble the knife out of his pocket an axe was slicing through the creature's skull. He watched Sam kick at the thing until he could wrench the axe free. Steve stared at him in shock.

"I think that makes us even." Sam commented breathlessly.

"I killed three zombies for you, the scale is still tipped." Steve commented back, standing up on slightly shaky legs. Adrenaline was coursing through him.

"What happened?" Sam asked.

"Last night, I was... I don't even remember what I was doing but I went outside the trap and I must’ve dozed off. Woke up to that thing." Sam glanced up at the sky and then at Steve, looking him up and down.

"Yup, we're staying here for the day."

"What? No. Sam—"

"You're exhausted. That's what happens when you choose to keep watch overnight three nights in a row. If someone wasn't so stubborn, he wouldn't almost be a zombie's lunch. You may be a dick but I need to talk to someone. Go to sleep, the tent is all yours. We'll get moving tomorrow." Steve stared Sam down but he didn't seem like he would budge. Steve relented and made his way under the barbed wire towards the tent, tripping over a branch as he did. He glanced back at Sam to see him staring at him with a pensive expression rather than a mocking one.

"Maybe two days."

"One."

"Two days and then we're gone."

" _One_."

"We'll see."

~*~*~

They set off two days later and reach South Carolina by noon.

He and Sam take their time walking through the state. They stop frequently though not for lack of will to go on so much as because the zombies are much more spread out here than in Georgia and favor the forest as opposed to the road. From the various burned trees around, he guessed someone set a fire some time ago to attract them and they ended up either getting stuck among the dense forestry or there was nothing to draw them away again. Steve didn't want to deal with anyone living so he and Sam trapezed their way through a maze of the dead. They probably killed more zombies in the two days they'd been in South Carolina than the two weeks spent in Georgia. Steve didn't mind and Sam seemed to be getting more and more comfortable with the axe the more he used it. Still, it was getting late. The sun was nearly set, the sky looking a very deep blue. They needed somewhere to sleep and the woods wouldn’t cut it. They made it back to the road, Steve hoping they’d come across a house, but all he saw for miles were trees.

“Steve.” Sam said urgently. Steve looked at him before glancing back to see a herd of zombies ambling down the road. They were about a yard and a half away from them. The numbers were dangerous but as long as they kept ahead of them Steve wasn’t worried, at least not until nightfall. He motioned for Sam to follow him down the road but Sam shook his head.

“It’s not like they can run, we just have to keep our distance.” Steve said in a somewhat reassuring fashion.

“It’s not that. It’s late. We need to hunker down and there’s no shelter in sight besides that thing.” Sam said, pointing off to their left. Steve squinted before he was able to make out a deep green semi crashed into a tree. It was somewhat concealed by the overgrown, low hanging tree branches but once pointed out it was noticeable.

“We could stay there for the night. I don’t want to be out here in the woods or on the road with those things around more than usual. The traps won't do shit against that herd anyway.” Sam said.

“The cabin’s probably burned out.”

“Yeah, but the trailer is fair game. We might even be able to open the tent in it. If not, we can just lay the bedrolls out. We can wait out the night until the herd passes and in the morning we can make up ground.” Steve glanced back at the zombies. They hadn't noticed them yet and still ambled at a leisure pace a safe distance away. He decided Sam was right, the risk wasn't worth it and instead of pressing on he followed him to the trailer and wrenched the door open cautiously. There were no zombies inside and if there had been cargo in it before, it was gone now. They climbed inside and Steve chained the door up after closing it.

They set up in the trailer for the night, using the flashlight to illuminate the dark setting and rolling out their bedrolls next to one another when they determined the tent wouldn't fit. Steve had some beef jerky in his bag and they ate that for dinner while listening to the zombies bang against the trailer before moving along. Sam jumped with nearly every bang. Steve looked at him as he gave a particularly violent shudder.

"I'm fine." Sam said, giving him a reassuring smile.

"It's just that we don't get this many of them near New Wakanda. Probably because of the smaller communities within the vicinity." Sam relayed as they laid side by side in their bedrolls.

"Where's this place exactly anyway?" Steve asked. He already knew where it was but be wanted to distract Sam. His discomfort was putting Steve even more on edge, never mind the giant herd outside.

"In Augusta county near Staunton and Waynesboro. They're both independent cities, Virginia’s got tons of those and New Wakanda…” Sam trailed off before looking over at Steve. He stared at him for a moment before he started chuckling lowly.

"Should I be insulted?" Steve asked.

"No, I was just thinking of how you might react to a place like New Wakanda. Now that I'm thinking of it, someone like you might be... slightly mystified."

"What does that mean?" Steve asked, leaning up on his elbows to look over at Sam.

“It’s not a bad thing per say. New Wakanda just might be different than what you’re used to.” Steve still stared at him expectantly.

"Our founder and leader came up from DC before the city fell. He was there for some emergency meeting between world leaders when the outbreak started getting bad but when this thing became an international pandemic and flights were grounded, he couldn’t get back home so he built his own community from the ashes. Eventually enough people found their way to it that we could make a sustainable society. We have power thanks to the solar panels, our own water supply and a well, animals, gardens, walls, an ample supply of weapons and food. Once those things were all secured, Prince T'Challa started giving out—"

"Wait, _Prince_ T'Challa?"

"Yup, Prince T'Challa. He is actually a prince. His father, King T’Chaka, is the leader of an isolationist African nation named Wakanda. T’Challa couldn’t get back. Either way, everywhere was hit from the virus. Wakanda, as advanced as it is, is no exception. So he started again, he built New Wakanda and it's worked out so far. Everyone has their job within the community. I'm a runner. Beyond runs, Prince T'Challa set up trade with the surrounding communities to get what we can't find. Thanks to that we have enough resources to lend to leisure activities like movie nights, basketball tournaments, book clubs and a bunch of other things." Sam said with a shrug. Steve didn’t even know what to say to that. A place like that, which before would be par for the course, now sounded like something from a fantasy. Sam looked over at him before chuckling again.

"The look on your face. I knew it, you think it’s insane."

"I think it's... different. It’s… something.”

“Don’t go pulling out any more complex adjectives or else you might lose me.” Sam quipped back. Steve rolled his eyes at the sarcasm but didn't bother throwing it back. Sam was a good verbal sparring partner, he found out.

"That was two questions by the way which means it's my turn. You told me before you had a friend and you said you weren't used to people anymore so I'm guessing you weren't always alone."

"Get to the point." Steve said as warning bells rung in his head.

"Like I said before, I want to know you. I look at you and I see this stranger. Granted it’s a stranger who I like. It didn't start out that way but I do. I know you're hurt. I know you lost someone in all this. I know you like looking forward but they're important to who you are. If I don't know them, I don't know you. So, who were they?" Steve stared over Sam's shoulder. He hadn't seen his ghosts in a little while. Last time he did Sam almost caught him talking to himself, so he tried to keep them out of his head now more than ever. Sam's hand found its way to Steve's cheek, brushing over the beard that had grown in during his time in the wilderness. The touch made his focus snap back towards Sam as he wordlessly waited for his answer.

"Their names were Bucky, Peggy and Natasha. That's all I'm saying about it."

"Okay. Can I... I'm going to ask my second question if that's okay."

"Fine and then we're going to sleep."

"Why do you stay out here? I'm sure you could find some community to belong to." Steve almost didn't answer that question but something about Sam's voice made him want to answer. Sam didn't sound judgmental, just genuinely curious.

"It's easier out here. I know what to expect and I know better than to trust anyone or take anything at face value. It keeps me in tuned with the world as it is so I don't become soft or immune to reality." Steve paused before continuing.

"Plus, there's not a lot of time to think about things other than how to survive. Can't dwell on what happened if I'm too busy making sure I don't die too."

"That makes sense I guess. I haven't had time to think about my sister as much as I usually do. We get people like you a lot in New Wakanda: nomads who live outside the community. T'Challa encourages them to come behind the walls if they're running low on supplies or anything else." Sam explained. Steve nodded before he suddenly realized Sam still had his hand on his cheek, lightly stroking at his prickly facial hair. The realization flummoxed him for a moment, sending his heart into a tizzy. He clamped down on the fluttering in his chest before it could really begin. He wasn't going to start this, he wouldn't be with Sam a week from now.

"Good night." Steve said in a curt tone before turning his back on the other man. Sam sighed audibly before turning off the flashlight.

"Good night." He murmured in response.

Steve squeezed his eyes closed, hoping sleep would come swiftly. It did come eventually but he found himself waking in what he thought was the middle of the night. He didn't feel very rested so it must be. He had a moment of panic, wondering if it was the zombies or some other danger that woke him. He tried to sit up but found he was unable to. On top of that he was warmer than he was before and that's when Sam's presence registered with him. They moved closer to each other in their sleeps. Steve was on his back rather than his side and Sam had his arm thrown over his waist, his head resting on Steve's shoulder. He was a warm presence in the otherwise cold atmosphere of the truck's trailer. He was soft where the ground was hard under his back. The trailer was dark, the only sliver of light that came in was through the bottom of the trailer's shutter but Steve's eyes used that miniscule illumination and he quickly adjusted allowing Sam's features to come into focus.

He hadn't ever been this close to him or anything that wasn't dead for some time. He found himself studying him in this moment. His bruises and scars had faded into psychological ones but you wouldn't know it to see him now. He slept peacefully curled against Steve, his face relaxed and worry-free. He looked soft and unbothered by the shitstorm outside the trailer's door and Steve almost let himself hope he was a part of the reason for that. Sam's lips were fuller than he'd noticed before, his beard around it grew into some sort of tamed pattern but he could probably do with a shave soon, if not a trim if they managed to find a pharmacy or a store somewhere around and Sam wanted to stop for something like that.

One of Steve's hands came up to Sam's cheek. He had a scar there that looked old. Steve wondered where it came from, it didn't look like it came from the men who attacked him. It wasn't fresh enough. He quickly cut off that line of thinking. Wallowing in the past did no one any good. He couldn't quite stop his finger from coming up to trace over the raised skin. Sam shuddered lightly in his sleep before his arm latched on tighter to Steve's waist and he cuddled deeper into his shoulder. Steve rested his head lightly on top of Sam's and let himself indulge a little by pressing a light kiss to the top of Sam's head, drawing another shiver as his beard brushed over his skin.

Sam would never know he had done it. Steve wouldn't even know what to do with himself if Sam felt anything other than disdain yet tolerance or at best mild fondness towards him. It was easier this way. They worked together because they had to and once Sam reached New Wakanda, Steve was gone. If there was some part of him that wanted to change his mind and stay there, well it was easily ignored.

~*~*~

Steve did his best to keep the twos’ journey confined to backwoods and dense forestry but residential areas couldn't be avoided forever. Besides, there might be some food or weapons locked away in one of the houses they would normally avoid. When they finally hit North Carolina, he decided to make a slight detour. Per the map they had, they were close enough to Virginia that he felt comfortable deviating.

"You keep watch while I look around. If anything, come around the back and get me." Sam nodded, holding his axe firmly in his grip as they stood in front of the fifth house they decided to rummage through.

Steve knocked on the door to draw any zombies that may be inside his way but after a few minutes when none came he eased his way into the home. It was in pristine condition. The home was decorated in grays, black and beige. He walked further into the living room, his bow and arrow at the ready. The place looked untouched, like it was frozen in time. There were pictures on the mantle place. Two of them were military service pictures, one of a Black man and the other of a Black woman. Next to it was a wedding photo of the two. Both looked older than in the service photos and the man now sported an eyepatch of red velvet with black details to match the vest of his tuxedo. The woman wore a rose-pink dress rather than white. The dress's veil featured an eaglelike emblem in silver before yielding to tulle. There was a wedding book set on a stand right next to it commemorating the marriage of Nick and Amanda Fury.

Steve left the mantle and continued to look around the living room. There was a layer of dust over everything suggesting no one had been to the house in some time. This could bode well or ill for the duo, he wasn’t sure which, but he still hoped to find something of use in this place.

He moved past the living room to the kitchen, searching the cabinets with the aid of his flashlight. They were all cleared of anything edible or useful. He shined his flashlight into the cabinet under the sink and only saw rusted pipes. He was about to move on when he noticed his flashlight shining on something that wasn’t the rusted pipes. He ducked down further and saw a gun taped to the underside of the pipe. He shook his head, wondering how they got the idea to put a gun there or why they felt the need to hide it around the house in the first place but he wasn’t about to investigate the former owners’ lives.

It wasn’t important anymore.

He pulled the pistol off the pipe and checked the clip to see it full. He made sure the safety was on before stuffing it into his pocket. He hoped that wasn’t the only one there. It’d be better if both he and Sam had guns. If it came down to it he’d just give the gun to Sam so he could protect himself with more than an axe, which wasn’t worth shit when it came to long distance defense. At least Steve had his bow and arrow.

“That’s cute.” Bucky said behind him. Steve jumped ever so slightly, not expecting the man to show up. There was no real reason for him to, Steve was just checking the place out.

“What the hell?” He growled at him.

“It’s cute that you feel the need to justify why you’re giving the new guy the gun. I mean, we all know it’s because of the moon eyes you’ve been giving each other but if you want to keep lying to yourself far be it from us to stop you. Actually, that’s not true. Thanks to the longevity of your relationship with Bucky Barnes, I’m stuck talking to you about this which is not enjoyable for me.”

“Poor you. How about you just leave then? I don’t need you here, I can get by on my own.”

“Really? There’s a padlock on the pantry by the way.” Steve glanced across the kitchen at the plywood door before making his way towards it.

“Look, I’m just saying while it’s not essential to your survival maybe it’s not the worst thing in the world.”

“What’s not the worst thing in the world?” Steve asked, kicking at the heavy plywood.

“Don’t make me say it. I’ll be physically ill which means you will be too.” Steve spared Bucky a look at that.

“An intimate relationship, a deep connection… new love for lack of better, less disgustingly sappy words.”

“Bucky was a hopeless romantic. You’re not very good at replicating that.” Steve commented.

“Hey, I’m a byproduct of your fucked-up mind. Blame yourself for that, not me.”

“I don’t know what you mean about Sam and I don’t care. You can go back to whatever corner of my “fucked-up mind” Peggy and Natasha are hiding in and stay there. I need to—”

“Steve?” Sam asked, coming around the corner of the kitchen. Steve turned to him quickly.

“I told you to keep watch.”

“I heard a bunch of banging in here and I got worried, thought you were in trouble.”

“It’s fine. I’m trying to kick through this thing.” Sam glanced at the pantry before stepping past Steve. He ran his fingers over the wood and then stepped back.

“It’s plywood, you’re not kicking through that. It’s what they use for horse stables. Your best bet is to break the lock. I can use the axe.” Steve nodded, moving out of the way as Sam began swinging his axe at the lock. It only took three swings for the lock to fall to the ground. Sam pulled the door open and promptly dropped the hatchet on the ground. Steve’s jaw must’ve dropped right along with him. The pantry was fully stocked with canned goods and dry food on all four shelves.

“This can’t be real.” Sam muttered. Steve shook out of his stupor before pulling his pack off his back. He promptly began stuffing it with food, starting from the top. He pulled down the cereal boxes first. There were probably weevils in there already but maybe there was something behind them. He took down the Corn Flakes and the Rice Krispies and placed them to the side. He grabbed the Chex and made to put it to the side as well but stopped as it felt heavier than the other boxes. He shook it a little and felt something loose in it. He opened the box and just as he suspected there was a gun sitting innocuously inside. He pulled it out and glanced at Sam who stared with a raised eyebrow. Steve wordlessly shrugged and checked the clip to find it full before checking the safety and handing the gun to Sam.

“What about—”

“Found another one under the sink.”

“Who were these people?” Sam asked incredulously.

“They were military which is helpful for us. Whatever else they were doesn’t matter now.”

“We can’t fit all this food into our packs. We can’t even fit half with all the other stuff we have.” Sam commented.

“Maybe not but we can still take enough to get us to Virginia.”

“… what if we don’t?”

“Don’t what?”

“Go back.” Steve stopped stuffing the cans in the bag and turned his full attention towards Sam who was biting his lip apprehensively.

“What are you talking about?”

“What if we stay here? The door has a million locks. There are peek-a-boo guns all over the place. I’d be willing to bet we could find more than the two you already did. I bet this place has secret rooms or something and look at all this food. There's a warm bed, maybe water if we’re lucky. Maybe we just stay here.”

“Sam, your sister—”

“Will be fine. A part of me wants to hope that maybe the fact that I disappeared snapped her out of it. Maybe it was this wake-up call to her and she’s fighting to get me back and when I get there, she’ll run to me and hug me and it’ll be like before. But that’s a stupid fantasy that isn’t going to come true. Sarah’s probably still sitting by the same window where I left her. The people at New Wakanda will visit her every day and make sure her muscles don’t atrophy and that she doesn’t starve or die of dehydration but one day she will die. One day, her body will catch up with her mind and she won’t be there anymore.” Sam said. His voice sounded distant and matter-of-fact, like he had spent a long time thinking about this and had turned this scenario over in his head more than once.

“Sam…”

“That’s selfish, isn’t it? I’m being selfish.” Sam said, turning around and walking away from him. Steve grabbed his hand to stop him.

“I didn’t say that.”

“You didn’t have to, your face said it.”

“I’m just… what would we even do out here? You told me about that place, it doesn’t sound like a raw deal.”

“I know it doesn’t. It isn’t. It was great, it _is_ great. Walls are not something to take for granted and neither is a steady food supply, protection, community. Out here it’s running and constantly staying alert, fighting dead assholes and living ones too.”

“I’m not hearing a lot of pluses.”

“You’re out here.” Steve froze, looking down at Sam. What did Sam mean by that? Steve was afraid of the answer.

“Would you stay in a place like New Wakanda? Would you want to?” Sam asked.

“I… I don’t know. I don’t know if I could.” Steve answered honestly.

“I heard you talking to yourself, or to Bucky rather.” Steve looked away, shifting uncomfortably.

“I’ve heard you talking to him before. Peggy and Natasha too. More than once." Steve opened his mouth to say something but there was nothing he could say.

"It’s okay. I used to talk to my dead boyfriend after I got discharged. It happens. There isn’t a working therapy system right now so we cope how we can. Even the doctors at New Wakanda would tell you it’s fine.”

“Do you have a point?”

“You mentioned their names before but you don’t talk about them.”

“They’re dead.”

“But they’re important to you.”

“A lot of people were once important to me and now they’re dead. I don’t talk about it and I don’t want to. We can stay here for the night and figure out what to do in the morning. I’m going to check downstairs, you finish here and then check upstairs.” Steve said, effectively ending the conversation.

~*~*~

Night fell and Steve settled down in the living room. The people who had lived here had their own water supply. While there was no hot water, at least there was water at all and so both Sam and Steve took short showers with actual soap, brushed their teeth and shaved. It was more than either had in a while so neither complained about the temperature.

They pulled the blinds over the windows, pushed a couch in front of the door and made sure there were no visible signs that they were in the house. They enjoyed some canned vegetables and beef jerky for dinner. After that Steve retreated to the living room, sat on the floor with his back pressed against the couch and relaxed for the first time in months.

After a few minutes of sitting in peaceful silence, Sam made his way into the living room and dropped down beside him.

“I almost didn’t recognize you without the beard.” Sam said teasingly as he settled next to him. He bumped his shoulder against Steve’s and waved a liquor bottle at him when he turned to look at him.

“I found this earlier when I was checking out upstairs. I have no idea what it is or how well aged it is, wine was never my thing, but not cracking this baby open would be a hell of a waste.” Sam explained, handing Steve a wine glass. He used a cork screw to crack it open and then poured a generous amount of deep purple liquid into the glasses. They clinked them together before sipping at the blend. Steve wasn’t much of a wine drinker either but it wasn’t the worst thing he’d ever had. The two silently drank through two glasses, their bodies building up a pleasant buzz from the fermented drink, before Sam said something.

“What if they were spies?”

“Huh?” Steve asked as he cracked his eyes open and lazily looked over at him.

“The people who lived here, what if they were spies? Or assassins? Or serial killers? I mean, who needs to hide guns in cereal boxes and under sinks? Who needs to padlock their pantry? Obviously they were into some shady business. What did their basement look like?”

“Like a conspiracy theorist's wet-dream. It’s basically a bomb shelter down there. So?” Steve replied.

“So? Who were they? What did they do? Why did they do it?”

“It doesn’t matter.”

“Why not?”

“Because they’re probably dead.”

“Just because they might be dead doesn’t mean they suddenly stop mattering." Steve knew he wasn’t just talking about the owners of this place and he felt frustration growing in him.

“Why are you suddenly such a proponent of speaking for dead people? Earlier you laid out your sister’s sad existence like you were reading a grocery list. Don’t lecture me about my worldview.” Sam sat silently beside him for a moment and Steve pushed away any regret he felt at the scathing words.

“I’m not saying I’m right and you're wrong. I just think… I mean I don't want you to… I want you to talk to me, I want you to trust me. I don’t have all the answers but I can still listen to you. That’s all I want. You listen to me all the time, even if you say you don’t want to or that you don’t care. I want to even the score.”

“You didn’t tell me anything about those guys who attacked you when I first found you. How’s that evening the score?” Steve threw out. It was clearly an act of desperation to end the conversation.

“You said you didn’t want to know.”

“What if I want to know now?” Steve challenged.

“I’ll tell you.” That stopped Steve short.

“What? Just like that?” He asked incredulously.

“Yes. Because I trust you and I hope you trust me, at least enough to know that whatever happened to you matters to me. Will you tell me what happened?” Steve sighed and shook his head. He didn’t want to talk about this but Sam was looking at him with an imploring gaze, his eyes slightly shiny. Steve didn’t know if that was the wine or something else but he didn’t want to keep having to deflect and field Sam’s questions, he just wanted it over with.

“Bucky and I grew up together. Our mothers were best friends; we did everything together. We joined the army together, went into the marines together. We met Natasha and Peggy there. We all hit it off right away. Peggy and I were… We came home around the same time and when everything went bad we stuck by each other’s side, figured that was enough to get us out of things alive. We got out of New York when leaving was still possible and managed to get to Maryland before we ran into a group of guys like the ones who attacked you. Bucky, Natasha and Peggy didn’t survive, I did. I found my way to Georgia eventually and then I stopped and stayed.” Steve said. He talked about it in a detached way, like he was reading a book’s synopsis. It was much the way Sam had described his sister’s condition. Sam didn’t look at him judgmentally about any of it. He just looked like he was, well, listening to him.

“Why’d you choose Georgia?”

“It was as good a place as any to survive. What happened with those guys?” Sam shrugged lightly.

“I was on a run with a couple other people from my camp. We were driving out of Virginia so we could widen the net of resources we were taking from. We hit North Carolina and ran into this group of thugs led by this asshole named Brock. They tried to take Claire while Karen and I were checking out a store. I came outside in time to stop them but they grabbed me instead, left Claire and then drove off. They spent the whole drive to Georgia going on and on about how they were going to… rape me, who was going to go first, everything they wanted to do to me. I didn’t…” Sam paused to take a deep breath, shaking his head to rid himself of whatever nightmare was stuck in there.

“Anyway, we got to a house and they stripped me down. They chained me up in the bathroom and left some rat faced bastard to watch me. Rollins, I think they called him. He didn’t want to wait. He wanted to have me first, so he attacked me. We fought. He got some good licks in, hence the injuries when you found me, but I won. I strangled him. I didn’t feel bad about killing him, I just did it. I jumped out the window, we were just on the second floor, and I ran. I got the shirt I was wearing off a dead zombie I found in the woods when I was running. I don't know how long I was running for. I didn't know where I was running to, I just ran. Eventually I ran into you.” Sam said, downing his full glass of wine right after. He didn’t seem detached from this. He looked visibly shaken still, which made sense. They weren’t so far removed from it, just a month or so. Steve didn’t even know how Sam chose to cope with it.

“Are you… okay now?” Steve asked, not sure what else to ask. Sam gave him a soft smile and nodded after a moment.

“Yeah, I am now. I don’t want to say some cliché bullshit about how I wouldn’t change anything because at least I met you. Obviously, I would like to not have been kidnapped and almost raped but I am glad I met you.” Steve scoffed slightly and looked away.

“It’s true. I’d take being out here with you these past few weeks over anything else that’s happened since the world went to shit.” Steve looked at him disbelievingly.

“Maybe I just like your company.” Sam said, answering Steve’s silent question. Steve didn’t have a response for that. Sam put his empty wine glass on the floor out of the way before gently taking Steve’s away and doing the same. Steve watched him move his legs under him and sit back on his haunches so he was at eye level with him. Steve knew what he wanted to do but he pushed the thought away. He didn’t want to think… didn’t want to believe….

Sam reached out and ran his fingers down Steve’s newly shaven cheek in a caress.

Oh.

“Sam…”

“It’s okay.” Sam replied reassuringly, leaning in closer to him. Steve could feel his hot breath brushing against his lips.

“We-we’ve been drinking and you’re… emotional.”

“It was three glasses of weak wine, I feel perfectly fine.”

“Sam, you can’t con—”

“I don’t care. I don’t care about being correct right now. It’s a zombie apocalypse, if there’s ever a chance not to give a shit, it’s now."

"Sam." Steve said in a slightly stern voice. It didn't really come out the way he wanted it to.

"I'm not telling you not to give a shit all the time but in this case, I don't want to wait anymore. I know what I want. I want this, I want you.”

“You’re just saying that because it’s just us here.”

“I spent months in New Wakanda and didn’t give anyone a second glance. If anyone should be worried about just being used for convenience, it should be me.”

“We can’t—”

“We can.” Sam interrupted once more, leaning his forehead against Steve’s. It was taking all his restraint not to just lean in and kiss Sam.

“Tell me you don’t want this and I’ll stop.” Sam whispered, his lips brushing ever so slightly against Steve’s.

“I… I want this.”

No sooner had the words come out that Sam’s lips were pressed against his. Steve grabbed onto the collar of Sam’s shirt, not wasting time with tiptoeing. He pulled at Sam until he was settled in his lap and deepened the kiss. Sam made an appreciative noise in the back of his throat, wrapping his arms around Steve’s neck and tilting his head into the kiss. They could’ve stayed like that forever and Steve wouldn’t have complained but eventually air became a necessity. He detached his lips from Sam's and nosed his way down the other man’s neck.

“Steve.” Sam moaned, grinding his hips down on his as Steve began trailing wet kisses along his neck. Sam pulled away so he could pull his shirt off and Steve took the opportunity to do the same before pulling Sam in again, their chests pressed flush against one another. They began kissing again as Steve wrapped his arms around Sam’s waist and stood up, holding him in his arms effortlessly. He pulled away with reluctance so he could make it up the stairs without falling while Sam focused his attentions on pressing kisses all over Steve’s neck and chest, running his hands down his shoulders, past his pecs and over his abs. He lingered at the top of Steve’s jeans, his touch ghosting horizontally over his abdomen.

“Teasing me on a staircase isn’t the brightest idea.” Steve said as steadily as he could, he was surprised his voice didn’t betray how turned on he was. He didn’t think he had the control to form a sentence, let alone teasingly scold Sam.

“That’d be something. A zombie apocalypse and we die falling down the stairs during sex.” Sam quipped back as Steve pushed the bedroom door open with his foot. He laid Sam down on the bed, standing at the edge of it. Sam smiled softly up at him with hooded eyes. Steve couldn’t help but lean down for another kiss, this one softer than the ones they shared downstairs.

Sam pulled him along by his belt loops as he made his way to the middle of the bed before Steve settled himself between Sam’s legs. He breathed out a harsh breath as Sam began pushing his hips against his. Steve ground down against him, biting his lip at the friction it was causing. It wasn't nearly enough though. Sam must've felt the same because a second later he was tugging insistently at Steve's jeans. Steve sat back on his knees and made quick work of his belt, placing it on the nightstand in case he needed his knife at any point, before unbuttoning his jeans and tugging it off. Sam sat up running his hands over Steve's chest once more, pressing kisses up his abdomen, lingering over his nipples to flick his tongue over them. He pushed insistently at Steve's shoulder until they switched positions and Sam was on top. He pushed Steve down onto the mattress, pressing their lips together briefly before he began kissing his way down Steve's body.

He watched Sam make his way lower and lower, letting out a breathy chuckle when his hot breath fluttered over his naval. Sam's fingers hooked into Steve's boxers and he pulled them off frustratingly slow. He threw them somewhere and ghosted his lips up Steve's leg from his toes. By the time he made it to his thigh Steve wanted to throw something across the room.

"Sam." He groaned, desperation seeping into his voice. Sam chuckled lowly and it was probably the sexiest thing Steve ever heard.

"Yeah, I got you." Sam pressed two kisses on the inside of Steve's thigh before his tongue brushed ever so slightly against his balls.

"Sa...." He trailed off breathlessly as Sam lips were suddenly wrapped around his cock. It was all heat and too much and just right. Steve dropped his head back against the bed, his eyes fighting to stay open as Sam bobbed his head up and down his length.

"Ooh, that feels so good." He muttered barely above a whisper. The air felt punched out of him, too much to speak in anything but hushed tones. Sam hummed around him, dipping his head low around him before coming back up. His hand wrapped around his length, stroking him up and down as he licked the head of his cock. His thumb smeared some pre-cum down the sides of him before he flicked his tongue over him again and then let his lips stretch open and cover Steve. Steve made an unintelligible sound as red hot pleasure shot up his spine. Sam chuckled around him but otherwise was content to continue his movements like Steve wasn't falling apart.

After some time riding the wave of pleasure, he grabbed Sam by the shoulder as he began to feel a tingling sensation creeping around his spine and pulled him back up so he could kiss him.

"I wish we had something so we could..." Steve mumbled. Sam moved around slightly and reached into his jeans pocket before pulling out a small tube of lube. Steve stared at it.

"Where did you...?"

"It was sitting on the nightstand when I checked the bedroom out."

"Did you plan this?"

"No but I hoped eventually this would happen. And if I did plan it, would you mind?"

"Not really." Steve responded, taking the lubricant from him. He pushed Sam off him so he could get his jeans and boxers off before settling on top of him. He opened the half empty tube, squeezing some of it's content onto his finger. He made eye contact with Sam and could see the barely restrained anticipation plain on his face. He lowered his fingers, brushing them against Sam's entrance. Sam's breath hitched at the contact before stuttering as Steve eased one finger into him. It had been a while for both of them so Steve took his time and went slow, preparing Sam with tentative, gentle fingers, inserting another only when he was absolutely sure Sam was ready.

"Steve, just get inside me already."

"I already am inside of you. I don't really know what you mean." Steve teased with a smirk.

"If your dick isn't inside me in the next minute, I will make you regret it." Sam threatened through clenched teeth. Steve's chest rumbled with laughter at Sam's behavior before he pulled his fingers free from his entrance. He coated his length with more lubricant, chucking the tube on the nightstand before lining himself up between Sam's legs. He slowly pushed into him, relishing in Sam's open groans while Steve bit his lip to stave off the noises that wanted to claw out of him. Sam wrapped his arms around him, clutching at Steve's back as he became fully seated inside of him. Steve panted, trying to fill his lungs with an adequate amount of air and was unable to. He stayed still, letting Sam adjust to his girth. In all honesty he needed the moment to collect himself just as much so he didn't cum on the spot. After a moment of the two simply breathing, Sam moved one hand from Steve's back to tangle into his hair,  pulling their faces together and pressing light kisses along his cheek towards his ear.

"I'm ready." He whispered, his hot breath tickling his skin. Steve nodded against him before pulling out ever so slightly and thrusting back in. He kept his thrusts light and shallow for a moment, letting himself get reacquainted with this particular activity.

"Please." Sam moaned, his legs wrapped high around Steve's waist to pull him in deeper.

"Please, I need you to— oh!" Sam exclaimed as Steve pulled nearly all the way out and slammed back into him. He didn't stop even as Sam begged him to keep going, thrusting into him harder and faster. The room was filled only with the sounds of skin slapping against skin and breathless moans and whimpers.

One of Sam's hands were tugging at Steve's hair again to pull him in for a kiss that lacked anything close to finesse while his other was wrapped around his shoulders. He hitched his legs higher, past Steve's waist so his feet were pressed into the small of his back, pushing him in deeper. It was like he was doing all he could to meld them into one body, join them as one. Steve didn't think he would mind. His doubts were a million miles away, left scattered between Georgia and North Carolina.

He supposed he missed sex on a whole, the satisfaction and pleasure of it, but more than that it was the closeness to Sam that was ripping him apart. It was how receptive he was to Steve's slightest touch, how he said his name reverently, how alive he was and how alive Steve felt with him. His heart hammered in his chest with every thrust, filling with emotions he dare not give name to for more than one reason. It was too early and he wasn't stable and Sam was...

Jesus, he couldn't even bother to think of reasons. Not when Sam was clenching around him like that and licking the shell of his ear with an expert tongue.

Sam pushed at him and Steve pulled out of him. Sam turned over onto his hands and knees, unashamedly giving himself over to Steve. He grabbed his waist and pushed back in, resuming a bruising pace to Sam's delight. He could do this all night. He could be with Sam like this in this house and let the world fall apart without a care if only he could have him like this. Sam's arms trembled under him as his nerves shot off pulse after pulse of electric pleasure and eventually gave out. Steve pressed the rest of him down so he was flat on his stomach on the mattress. He leaned down, pressing kisses to his back as he continued thrusting into him. As he leaned back Sam let out a guttural groan.

"There. Right there, Fuck me there." Steve redoubled his efforts, thrusting harder and faster than before, repeatedly hitting his prostate. Sam's whimpers kept getting higher and higher whenever contact was made. Steve couldn't last much longer but he wanted Sam to come first.

"That feels good, doesn't it?" Steve whispered into his ear.

"Mmm, yes, so good."

"Are you close?"

"Mm-hmm."

"Bet I don't even need to touch you. I bet you could come just from this."

"Please..." Sam whimpered.

"Come for me, Sam." Steve demanded, kissing his face gently. He only had to thrust into him a few more times before Sam cried out, clenching around him and clutching the bed sheets as he hit his release.

He was so warm. No, he was almost unbearably hot and he transferred that heat to Steve wherever they were touching. He felt the heat everywhere, it crept down from his chest, through his stomach and settled in his groin until he was shaking with his own release. It pulsed hot out of him and into Sam. He collapsed on top of him, resting his head in the crook of his neck as they both caught their breath.

Eventually Steve regained enough sense to pull out of him and roll off the bed. He went to the bathroom and wet a rag he found. Sam had rolled off the wet patch in the sheets and was practically passed out in the bed, his eyes drooping. Steve cleaned him up and left him to rest before cleaning himself up as well. He threw a towel over where Sam had came into the sheets and laid down on the bed next to him. Sam curled up into his side, resting his head on Steve’s chest as his breath started evening out. Steve didn’t mind. He had nothing he wanted to say, he just wanted to be here with Sam.

However, despite the afterglow falling over them, Steve’s mind started racing with thoughts of what would happen after this, what needed to happen. Sam had thrown the idea of staying here around. Steve kicked that idea around in his head. There was an ample amount of food and they had shelter, they could probably find more guns and other weapons if they looked hard enough. They could survive here, that much was true. It would just be the two of them, however that looked. It could always look like this. The intimacy, the heat between them, they could share it every night if they wanted to and they could smile together, laugh together like they have been. They could do that forever.

But at the same time, it’d just be them. Just the two of them against the world. Would that be enough for Sam in the long run? Could Steve be enough? He didn’t think so. He was a mess, barely able to allow himself enough hindsight to allow the deep thought Sam seemed to want to indulge in. He couldn’t look back because all he would see was a trail of his own mistakes, mistakes that got the people he loved killed. He didn’t want that to be Sam, he didn’t want him to depend on Steve only to, at best, be disappointed in the end, at worst, end up another ghost that only existed in Steve’s head.

That settled it. They couldn’t stay here. Steve would get Sam back to his camp and after that…

~*~*~

Steve woke up to the sun streaming in through the windows of the bedroom. For a moment he was disoriented, unsure of where he was. He looked up as Sam came from the bathroom dressed in sweats and a t-shirt. He smiled at him when he saw Steve was awake.

“Hey, I was wondering when you were going to wake up.” He said, walking over to the bed. He leaned down and pressed a kiss to Steve’s lips while simultaneously climbing onto the bed and into Steve’s lap. They kissed for a long moment, Steve’s arms lazily coming around Sam’s waist as he sat up and pulled Sam closer. Even though he couldn’t stay with Sam he wanted every ounce he could get from him. It was selfish and Sam would only end up hating him down the road but that didn’t stop him. Sam pulled away after a moment leaning his forehead against Steve’s.

“I made some breakfast, just some canned peaches and toast from some stale bread I found. I was thinking we eat and then we can have round two.” Steve pulled his forehead back so he could look Sam in the eye.

“That’d be good and then we can pack up to leave.” That gave Sam paused.

“Leave? I thought we—”

“Last night doesn’t change the fact that we shouldn’t stay here. It’s not safe.”

“There’s food, four walls and a roof, weapons—”

“It’s not enough.”

“But—”

“Sam, it’s not enough.” He looked down and Steve lifted his head with a gentle hand on his chin.

“I need you to look at me and understand what I’m telling you. This isn’t about last night or who’s running from the past or any of that. It’s about safety. Yeah, there’s four walls and a roof but it isn’t enough. All we have keeping anyone out is a couch. That’s nothing, Sam. Two pistols isn't much more than that. We need more than four walls. We need a concrete security system and New Wakanda has that. They have—”

“We?”

“What?”

“You said we. Are you staying with me in New Wakanda? You think that’s something you can do?” Steve paused. He didn’t want to lie to Sam. They had managed to keep things honest between them up to this point but if he told the truth, Sam wouldn’t go along with this.

“Yeah, I’ll try.” Sam smiled brightly at him and Steve’s heart ached at the sight for more than one reason. He was going to end up breaking that smile. But it was for the best, he had to believe that. Sam leaned forward and kissed him again, this kiss heavy and filled with passion. Steve returned it just as good as he got. He wanted to take his mind off his upcoming departure and keep it fully on Sam. He kissed the other man's shoulders as Sam pushed and kicked away the sheets separating them. Sam pushed at his shoulders, pinning him to the headboard as he reattached their lips. Steve closed his eyes, losing himself to the kiss as Sam moved around, taking his sweatpants off. Steve was already naked and feeling Sam's naked body against his was doing more than enough to get him hard. Sam's hand slid down to his shaft, jerking him off in slow but firm strokes.

"Mmm, Sam. I... unh." Steve murmured, clutching at Sam's shoulders. Sam leaned forward for one more kiss before lining himself up with Steve's dick.

"Wait, we didn't—" Steve cut himself off as he sunk down on him in one swift motion. He was warm and wet inside.

"I did already, in the shower." Sam said breathlessly, hanging onto Steve as his muscles, sensitive from their activities the previous night, adjusted to his girth.

"I swear you're planning this."

"Again, do you care?"

"Uh-uh." Steve replied, trying to thrust up into him but not having the purchase he wanted. He went to move his legs so he could properly fuck him but Sam stopped him.

"I wanna do it." Steve nodded and let himself be at Sam's mercy. He owed it to him anyway even if he didn't know it yet. Sam set a pace that constantly shifted from languid and sensual to bruising and downright maddening. Steve probably got to the edge three times but Sam would switch up his rhythm and the feeling would recede.

"Sam, please." Steve begged after the third time, his body a shuddering mess as he clutched the headboard so tightly he thought it would break.

"Please what?" Sam asked with amusement in his voice, his heat enveloping Steve's cock again and again.

"Please, I need to cum. I need it, please, please." Steve didn't care to feel shame now.

"I got you." Sam promised. He picked up the pace, rising and falling over Steve's dick, clenching around him periodically. Somehow it was when Sam leaned forward and bestowed a soft, chaste kiss to his lips that Steve finally fell over the edge. Sam continued riding him through his orgasm. Steve eventually regained his strength and brought his hand up around Sam's dick, stroking him until he reached his climax to a loud, resounding moan.

After they had spent themselves, they fell back on the bed, panting heavily.

"Damn it," Sam cursed.

"Hmm?"

"I'm going to have to take another shower. That thing is cold." Steve smiled a little at his complaining but inside he was something of a wreck. He was lying to Sam and now it felt like he was using him too. Sam glanced at him and furrowed his eyebrows.

"What's wrong?"

"Nothing." Sam looked at him doubtfully.

"Really, it's nothing." Steve reiterated, putting on a smile for him. Sam studied him for a moment before speaking.

"If you say so." He responded, leaning over to kiss Steve before pulling away with a slight chuckle.

"I can't wait until we get to New Wakanda. I think you'll fit in better than you think. You can join the cynical brigade, party of Misty, Frank and Jessica. You guys can complain on the front porch if it means so much to you. Of course, that would mean making friends with people."

"I made friends with you."

"We're not just friends, unless you have sex with all your friends."

"No. We're not just friends." Steve confirmed because that's not how he felt about Sam. He knew what the name of the emotion growing in him was and it was in its name that he now betrayed Sam. But it was to protect him. He'd do it ten times over if only to protect him, even if it meant protecting him from Steve.

~*~*~

Steve didn’t know if it was the lie or the fact that they were getting closer to New Wakanda, but something had been reinvigorated in Sam and he didn’t want to stop until they made it to the camp. They had let this journey drag out over the course of a month and a half and it was only now that Sam wanted to push harder than before.

“We’re in Amhurst now, Augusta is just a county away. If we push hard enough, we can get there before nightfall tonight. Early tomorrow if nothing else.” Sam declared, marching a few feet ahead of Steve on the side of the road.

“That’s nice and all but slow down.” Steve said as he gripped his gun in his hand, keeping his eyes peeled for any threats while Sam walked in front of him almost carelessly.

“What? You can’t keep up? You want to stop and rest your precious feet?” Sam said, glancing back at him with a teasing smile but slowing down nevertheless so he was walking beside Steve.

“I thought you said you forgive me for all of that.”

“I didn’t actually say that but then again you didn’t ask me to.”

“I said I was sorry.”

“My father always said saying ‘sorry’ and apologizing aren’t the same.” Steve rolled his eyes at that.

“I apologize. Happy?” Steve said. Sam shook his head.

“That didn’t sound very sincere.” Steve stopped and looked over at Sam as he did the same. Steve had so many things to apologize to Sam for that he knew he wouldn’t be lacking in sincerity if he were trying but if he did that Sam would know the score immediately. Sam rose an expectant eyebrow at him before shaking his head.

“I don’t actually need you to make some grandiose speech and apologize, I was just teasing. I forgave you already even if you are still an asshole.” Sam told him, reaching over to pull Steve in for a kiss. Sam made to walk away but Steve pulled him back, dragging him into another kiss.

Sam chuckled against his lips but wrapped his arms around Steve's neck, indulging him. Steve let the kiss linger as long as his paranoia allowed him (which wasn't long with the alarms blaring in his head, telling him that they were making out in the open road.)

"You're friskier than I thought you'd be. I like it." Sam commented, grabbing Steve’s hand. He was about to pull him along behind him down the road when a loud bang followed by a whizzing sound tore through the air, stopping them in their tracks.

A bullet came flying out of nowhere past their heads, embedding itself in a tree. Steve tensed up as a voice came from the collection of trees to their left.

“Well, well. What do we have here, boys?” Just then a man came out of the trees with four other men behind him. Two of them had crossbows, one had a hatchet, another had a baseball bat and the man who seemed to be the leader held a gun in his hand. He was a sight. While not taller than Steve, he was a muscular man whose appearance betrayed how physically strong he probably was. Half of his face was scarred and grafted over, obviously having been badly burned before. He itched at the skin ever so often as he casually held his gun to his side, seemingly unworried even when Steve raised his pistol at the group of men, pushing Sam behind him. He seemed frozen, unable to react. It didn’t take a genius to figure out that he must know these guys, that they were the ones who attacked him.

“Hello there.” The leader said, his gaze solely on Sam.

“Here I was lamenting the fact that you’d managed to get away. My men were highly upset about that, for more than one reason. One: you killed Rollins. I understand the emotion you might have felt in that moment but that shit isn’t cool. Two: we’ve been following tracks all over kingdom come that we weren’t even sure was yours. You can run into some nasty things out here and you bet we did. All of which culminates into number three: you left my men unsatisfied and unhappy to have to chase you around, being chased by zombies along the way. Now, I promised them a good time and you made a liar out of me. Doubly not cool.” The leader who must be Brock said, smiling lecherously at Sam.

“You’re not getting anything from him.” Steve told them firmly, cocking his gun. Brock finally looked at him.

“Oh, you got yourself a new friend. We haven’t met before. I’m Brock and you have my property. I’m going to need you to hand him back over and you can make it out of this thing alive.” Steve glared at the man. He didn’t seem threatened by him in the slightest as he smiled confidently at the two. Sam snapped out of it then, taking a step out from behind Steve despite his protests.

“I’m not your property. You guys are nothing. You're just a bunch of jumped up thugs who think you can take whatever you want. Fuck you.” Sam spat venomously at them.

“We were hoping, yeah. Let’s get real, you two aren’t going anywhere.” Brock replied, laughing a little.

“You thought that before. Rollins sure did and we see where he is. I’m not leaving with you.” Brock’s smile dropped from his face now and he shook his head, glaring menacingly at Sam.

“Don’t play games with me. This could go easy or rough, whichever way is up to you, but if you think you’re getting out of here you better think again.”

“Boss.” One of the men behind Brock said, jerking his head to the left. Steve looked out the corner of his eye and saw a group of zombies ambling towards them, probably drawn by the sound of the gunshot.

“Right on time. You gonna stay out here and get eaten or what?” Steve flicked his eyes over the men, wondering how he was going to get Sam out of this. He could shoot a few of them but then Brock would shoot him and take Sam anyway. If he shot Brock, would the guys with the crossbows shoot him before he could shoot them? Was he wrong? Should they have just stayed at the house? If they did they wouldn’t be on this road facing these men right now.

“I can see you still need some convincing here. Boys! Bring ‘em out!” Sam’s breath hitched slightly as two more guys came dragging two women out from behind a few trees, dropping them down to their knees. Brock walked over to a caramel skinned woman whose hair was knotted with leaves and dirt. She sported a black eye and there was some blood on her shirt from where her lip had apparently been busted. Brock pointed his gun to the woman's head.

“Now Sam, if you didn’t get involved it’d be this little beauty dealing with us but you did. You wanted your friend Claire here safe. Well, now is your chance to save her again along with your friend Karen over there. You see, it may not look or feel like it but there are rules to this shit. Eye for an eye. You killed one of my men. Either you pay for that or your friends do. Time’s a ‘ticking. The dead guys are getting closer, you better figure this shit out quick.”

"Sam, don't listen to this shithead." The blonde woman, Karen, said before yelping as the man above her pulled her hair roughly. Steve felt Sam squeeze his hand slightly before he let it go and moved out from behind him.

“Sam, no.” Steve said through grit teeth.

“I can’t let him kill them. They’re my friends.” Steve shook his head at him.

" _Sam_." He said imploringly, not knowing how to convince Sam to reconsider this. The other man looked at him tearfully before pressing a kiss to Steve's lips. The finality of it was palpable. Sam rested his head against Steve's for a second before he pulled away. He turned and walked over to Brock who smiled widely and triumphantly at him.

“I knew you’d see it my way.” He said to Sam as he stood in front of him.

“Thanks for bringing him back, whoever you are. I’ll even be nice and let you leave with Sam’s buddies. Whether the zombies will let you, well, that’s up to you.” Steve wanted to shoot every one of them dead but Brock backed into the woods with Sam in front him as a shield. Steve shook his head and pointed the gun at the zombies who were almost right on them, shooting the closest ones in the head.

“Hey, follow us.” The woman who must be Claire said, pulling him down the road. He followed her and the other woman as they ran down the road away from the zombies.

“Sam.” Steve protested.

“I know, we’ll get him back. We need to regroup with our people. They’re close by. We can circle around and get him.” Steve followed them into the woods until the sound of zombies groaning began to fade into the background. Every step they took felt like one more death sentence on Sam’s head. Eventually they slowed down and began trudging through the forest at a pace slower than running but faster than strolling.

“They’re just up here.” Karen said, leading them through the woods. Steve kept a critical eye of their surroundings but even so he didn’t notice someone else’s presence until it was too late. He was snatched from behind. Someone kicked at his leg and he found himself on his knees, his arm twisted behind him back.

“Who are you?” An accented voice demanded.

“Wait, wait! He’s with us!” Claire said. Steve felt the presence on his arm abate and he immediately stood up to face his aggressor. There were three men and a woman looking at him like he was a threat. Steve couldn’t blame them, they didn’t know him but there were more pressing matters.

“Claire, your face.” The largest one of the men said, crossing over to her with clear concern.

“It doesn’t matter. We just ran into those guys who attacked us. They took Sam.” The new people gave a look then.

“Wilson was here? You saw him?” A rough looking man with a slightly crooked nose asked.

“Yes. This man, he was with Sam when Brock's group caught up with him. They'd been following his tracks for a while, from South Carolina apparently. They’re still close by. They drew zombies on us but we could probably catch up to them if we hurry.” Karen explained to the man.

“The car is close. Ms. Temple and Ms. Page, take this man back to New Wakanda. Mr. Cage, Mr. Castle and Ms. Knight come with me.” The man, who was the leader and thus must be Prince T’Challa, said.

“Wait—”

“But—”

“I’m not leaving Sam.” All three of them protested. Prince T’Challa gave all three of them a withering look at their outbursts. The rough looking man strut his way over to Karen.

“Karen, go."

"Frank, I can—"

"I know but Claire is hurt, she needs someone watching out for her and we don’t know this guy.” She held his gaze before relenting.

“Fine. Just get Sam back.” Steve held his ground, eyeing Prince T’Challa.

“I don’t know who you are but Sergeant Wilson’s safety is a priority to me. If you get in the way, you will be taken care of. I suggest you go with Ms. Temple and Ms. Page. Every second wasted is another second Samuel is with these renegades.” Steve shook his head and sighed.

“Bring him back.” Steve requested.

“I don't intend to return without him. Go.” Steve followed Karen and Claire as they all reluctantly made their way to where there was a car parked close by. He got in the passenger seat while the blonde got into the driver’s seat and the brunette slipped into the back.

There was an elastic band tethered to him on one end and Sam on the other. Every foot of distance put between them pulled the band tighter and tighter. It was going snap eventually and the fear of whether it would snap back or simply break was more nerve wracking than sitting in a car with strangers on his way to a place he never planned to see the inside of in the first place.

~*~*~

Driving cut the time it took to get to New Wakanda in half, thus they reached the settlement before nightfall. The drive had been a silent one, only broken by the exchange of names and the occasional hiss of pain from one of the women. He didn't miss the .380 Glock Karen had resting in her lap, perhaps passed on to her by the rough looking man but he kept his pistol close, neither woman bothering to take it from him.

He looked out the window as they drove through the streets of New Wakanda. The place looked unnaturally clean with rows of McMansions lining the streets and people milling about the gated community leisurely. They passed lush gardens with various vegetables growing as well as a stable for horses, a pig pen and a chicken coup. He was sure he heard a cow at one point though he didn’t see it. He almost wanted to rub his eyes to make sure this was real. He was known to hallucinate so that wasn’t a stretch. He noticed Karen glancing at him out of the corner of his eyes and he fixed his features to hide the wonder he felt. They stopped outside a house with the sign of a red cross outside.

"I got this by myself. Deal with Sam's loverboy." Claire said, exiting the backseat and walking up to the house.

"Where'd Sam pick you up anyway?" Karen asked suddenly as if they'd been carrying on a conversation while they continued down the road.

"Georgia." He replied curtly.

"Not talkative? Don't know how he stood you."

"Yeah, me either." They pulled up to a smaller house in comparison to the others. There was a sign with a blue cross stuck in the grass out front. He followed Karen inside where a man sat behind a desk just inside of the entrance. Beyond him was a wall with one opening along with a gate hanging on hinges attached to the wall.

"Hey Brett. I got a ward for you." The man looked up from a magazine and glanced Steve up and down before sighing.

"Fine. You know where to set him up." Karen nodded before glancing over at Steve and motioning to his gun. He was reluctant to part with it but if Sam was willing to give himself to the men he spent over a month running from for this woman then Steve decided it was better to just relinquish it. Karen nodded at the doorway and Steve stepped inside, letting the gate be closed and locked behind him.

"Don't think of it as a prison. Think of it as a bed and breakfast you can't leave until we have more of a handle on you." Steve didn't know how he wasn’t supposed to look at this prison, however dolled up, as anything other than a prison but he put that aside for now.

"You'll tell me if you find Sam?"

" _When_ he's back I'll tell you. Until then, sit tight." Karen walked away and Brett didn't bother looking back at him so Steve explored his surroundings.

He was in a living room except the entrances to other parts of the house were blocked by bars. The room itself was largely bare besides a television with a DVD player attached and rows of movies next to it. The windows in this room were barred and he'd be willing to bet all of them in this house were. The couch looked comfortable enough and so he sat down.

He expected Peggy, Bucky or Natasha to show up but they were nowhere to be found. He was alone. He stared ahead, hoping for the first time in a long time against the odds for something good to happen.

~*~*~

He sat in his expansive jail cell for three days before he got any news. His days were spent staring ahead blankly, his mind running wild with all the possibilities. He dreamed about Peggy, Natasha and Bucky's deaths and he dreamed of what could happen to Sam. The nightmares shook him awake, leaving him unable to fall back asleep.

Brett brought him two meals a day which Steve barely ever finished, choosing instead to pace and worry despite Brett's suggestions to find another activity to occupy his time. The officer/warden kept a constant eye on him, even when it seemed he did nothing besides read magazines and drink coffee.

Steve spent the times he didn't sleep thinking. If they brought Sam back, when they brought Sam back, he would be hurt. Steve was supposed to protect him. He was supposed to make sure this never happened again and yet he stood powerless as Sam walked right back into those monsters’ arms. He hadn't protected him while he was with him so what was the point of being there at all? Sam had better protection from people like Prince T'Challa and his friends than he did from Steve.

At the same time, if he was with Sam he could keep a better watch over him. He couldn't foresee Brock but anyone else who tried to come up against him Steve would be there to protect him.

Then again, he hadn't done a damn thing to protect Bucky, Natasha or Peggy.

"Despite my implications towards the contrary, that wasn't your fault." Natasha said, appearing beside him.

"I thought you were gone for good." Steve mumbled back, ignoring the way Brett glanced over at him talking to himself.

"Almost. We wanted to see what you would decide on your own but I’m too impatient and you obviously need a push. You need to stay here. This is the point, this is the entire point. This is why we existed at all: so you could get to a place like this. You need to be here. Peggy, Bucky and I can only do so much. We’re good but we aren’t miracle workers. Being out there isn't cutting it anymore, running isn't cutting it. You need Sam." She said, giving him a keen, serious eye.

"For what? So I can watch him die like I watched all of you and know I can't do anything to stop that?"

"Everyone is going to die at some point, that’s how it works. Trying to stop that is a waste of time and energy, all you can do is push it off. Looks, there’s a big difference between living and surviving. My purpose was to help you survive but how you are with Sam: that’s living. That’s true happiness. In all this bullshit, it’s not the most horrible thing in the world. You don’t have to forget Peggy but you don’t have to be afraid to move on either."

"I'm not—"

"You alright?" Brett asked, approaching the cell gate. Steve nodded after a moment.

"Just arguing with myself."

"Need help?"

"No."

"You sure? Because I've kept a careful watch over you and behind the worry in your eyes is a man who wants to run. Are you going to stick around here or are you going to leave the first chance you get?" Steve didn't have an answer for that, he hadn't thought about it enough to answer that question.

"Sam is better off without me." He pointed out.

"Isn't that something Sam should decide? He's coming back, you know. Prince T’Challa is not going to leave him out there. What's Sam going to say if you're not here?" Steve shook his head.

"You don't get it."

"No, I don't. You met a woman named Misty Knight out there, didn’t you?”

“Yeah, what about her?”

“She’s my wife. I met her when I got to New Wakanda. I’d lost all hope and she managed to restore it. All the bullshit going on and I find something good in all of it. It felt wrong in the beginning, you know. I wondered how it was even possible. I lost everyone that I knew and I gained her. That didn't replace them but I don't look gift horses in the mouth. You shouldn't either." He said before returning to his spot by the front door.

“And don’t mention to her when she comes back with Sam that I compared her to a horse. She’ll kill me.” Steve scoffed to hide a chuckle and then sighed, letting his mind run rampant with all the possibilities and what-ifs.

Finally, on the third evening Karen came. She walked into the house with her hair a wild mess, huffing like she had been running. That wasn’t what stuck out to him the most though. Her shirt was covered in blood. Steve's mind immediately began racing.

Sam was dead. He was gone. Steve didn't do shit to protect him, not a damn thing. He was dead and it was all his fault.

Karen noticed Steve's eyes glued to her shirt and immediately reassured him.

"It's not Sam's. It's a zombie's. Sam is okay. They brought him back late yesterday evening. He was hurt. Our doctors worked on him all night but he'll be okay." She said, coming towards the gate and unlocking it. She motioned for him to follow her and he did as quickly as he could.

"Where is he?" Steve asked, strutting down the street with her. They both got looks from the townspeople as they passed, Karen for the blood and Steve more than likely because they didn't recognize him. He stood out like a sore thumb among them. His clothing ranged from brown and black to dark green so he could better blend into the forests he frequented. Everyone here seemed to have something for pastels. He shook his head free of this assessment and concentrated on the road ahead.

"He's in the infirmary." He ran ahead of her, finding his way to the infirmary using his memory of their drive from there to the jailhouse. When he turned the corner to the street the infirmary was on, there was a small group of people collected in front of it. Steve ignored them and ran towards the infirmary doors, he could hear Karen’s footfalls following closely behind him. He burst in to the house, startling the two women in the room.

"Where is he?" The women stared at him with confusion and slight fear.

"Sam? Where is he?"

"Helen, Jem, it's alright. Steve's just over-excited and worried." Steve looked over as Claire walked in from a door to the left.

"You guys did great. I think Sam just needs to rest, I'll keep an eye on his stats. You guys head out."

"You sure?"

"Yeah, we can stay."

The two women said, looking at him with distrust but Claire shook her head.

"Yeah, get out of here." They spared Steve one more glance before turning and leaving.

"I thought you were locked up." Claire stated.

"I let him out." Karen said, entering the room. Steve was getting antsy not having information about Sam's condition. He looked at Claire expectantly.

"Our guest seems impatient." T'Challa said, entering behind him.

"I can understand your worry. I was informed of the nature of your relationship with our Sergeant Wilson and believe me, I understand being apart from your love. If I can withstand the pain of oceans and continents of distance, I think you can withstand a few questions with the knowledge that he is safe a room away."

Steve sighed, wondering if anyone was actually going to tell him anything.

"If I answer your questions, can I see him?”

"I won't keep you away."

"Go ahead."

"Brock and his breed escaped us but we will not leave any stone unturned in our pursuit of him. I had previously alerted the surrounding communities of the danger his presence presented but they chose to ignore him. I knew better and now we see what damage he can cause. However, I don't know everything. You know much of the road, don't you? You haven't spent much time behind walls during this crisis?"

"No, I haven't."

"They know much of the road as well. They prefer it actually.'

"It has its upsides. Solitude, if you can find it."

"You never encountered these men on your travels?"

"I stayed in Georgia. Unless they were based there, I wouldn't have. Besides, I tried to keep away from people."

"Yet you found Sam?"

"He found me." Steve corrected, smiling a little. It felt like ages now since they first met but realistically, it hadn't even been two months.

"He was being attacked by zombies and I saved him, told him I'd help him get back to his camp."

"Why? You said you had an aversion to people. I understand the sentiment but you couldn't know what kind of man he was."

"I wasn't my most hospitable to him in the beginning. I wanted to make it up to him. Can I ask you a question?"

"I don't see why not." Prince T’Challa said, an undecipherable smile on his face.

“What are these questions for?"

"As I said, I don't intend for these men to roam free. I will find them. However, they have the advantage of knowing the outside world far better than even my best runners. A man with your experience would not be remiss in this quest. Obviously, you care much for Sergeant Wilson. I would see his attackers brought to justice."

"There's such a thing anymore?"

"There is, of that myself and my allies to the South, North and East can agree upon. We cannot have men like this attacking any more of our runners or terrorizing those of you who choose a life on the road. We are friendly with several travelers who choose a nomadic lifestyle but come back frequently when they need supplies or friendly human contact. They must be protected as well. I am asking for your assistance in this problem in any way you can give it." Steve paused before he answered.

"I'll help however I can." Steve responded. He had spent long and hard thinking about it after Brett’s words to him and he decided he was right, whether he stayed or went should be down to Sam but he knew for sure he couldn’t just let Brock go scot free, not after all he’d done to Sam.

"Ms. Temple, please escort him to Sergeant Wilson's bedside. We will revisit the subject at a later date." The prince said before strutting out of the room.

Claire nodded for Steve to follow her. They walked into a room off to the left where there were three beds with people he didn't recognize. They must've been injured in some way shape or form. They walked past the three people to the fourth bed at the end where Sam was. Steve shook his head as he took in Sam's appearance. His right leg was in a cast, he was shirtless showing the bandages around his abdomen and the myriad of bruises coloring his skin even darker. He had a cut over the top of his left eye which was sporting a shiner and a cut across his left check.

"They drove him away, stopped at a house and started beating him up to punish him but they didn't know he had a gun. He shot a couple of them before Brock shot him in the leg. Prince T'Challa and the others were able to find them thanks to the gunfire. He'll be alright. His leg needs time to heal, he's got a few broken ribs and a shit-ton of bruises but he'll heal and he'll be okay." Steve nodded, his eyes not leaving Sam's form for a second. Claire made to walk away before pausing.

"Look, Sam's not— he's not the most open person in the world. I mean, he is but he isn't at the same time, you know. He gives people chances and he doesn't mind talking about himself but if he gives you his trust and you break it, it's not an easy thing to get back. He likes you for some reason. He kept asking if you were okay when he was awake. Just don’t break his heart because if you do I’ll break both your legs and leave you for the zombies." Claire warned him. She didn't bother waiting for a response from him before walking off.

He cautiously approached Sam and sat on the little stool by his bed. He hesitantly reached out and held his right hand between both of his, examining the scratches over his skin. He pressed a kiss to his fingers before leaning his forehead over the appendage. Steve sat there for an indeterminate amount of time before he felt Sam’s fingers twitching in his grasp. He looked up to see him blinking himself awake, his left hand going up to pull off his nasal cannula.

“No, no. You need it.” Steve told him, gently pulling his hand away from his face. Sam lazily rolled his head over to look at him.

“Steve? Wha—? I... Where…?”

“You’re in the infirmary at New Wakanda. You got hurt when you decided to play action hero. The doctors here got you all patched up though.” Sam leaned back, shaking his head slightly.

“Did they give me sedatives? I feel loopy. Room’s all spiny.” He mumbled. Steve chuckled slightly.

“They might’ve, I’ll get Claire to come lower the dosage.” He got up to leave but Sam gripped his hand.

“No, don’t leave. Stay.” Steve nodded and sat back down leaning his head on the bed beside Sam, careful to avoid his bruised sides. After a moment, Sam’s free hand came over to sluggishly pet Steve’s hair. For some reason, it was that simple gesture that sent Steve over the edge and he felt pure raw emotion swelling up in him. He could feel tears gathering in his eyes and his shoulders starting to shake despite his best efforts to hide this from Sam.

“’teve? Baby?” Sam muttered, his speech slightly slurred. Steve took a deep breath before looking back up at Sam, trying to compose himself.

“I’m fine.” Steve said, trying to put on a smile. Sam frowned and tapped Steve’s lips lightly.

“Lying to me.” Steve sniffled before shaking his head.

"I was just thinking about everything, about how you could’ve died and I think it's time to level with you. Peggy, Natasha and Bucky died because of me.”

“Steve—”

“No, it was my fault. You don’t know what I— I was leading them. I said we could make our way to Georgia to the Center of Disease Control. We had opportunities to get behind walls but I pushed us to go on to the CDC because that had to be where the answers were. We ran into this group on the road. They didn't want to trust this group of guys but I did. They helped us against the zombies and I thought… I don’t know what I thought. Anyway, they turned out to be monsters. They held us and tortured us. They made me watch them kill my friends, my family, one by one. When it was my turn to die, I fought and, somehow, I won. I got away and I ran. I didn't stop running. I ran all the way to Georgia like we planned and made it to the CDC but there was nothing there. The scientists had blown their own brains out.” Steve paused in his recollection, his emotions getting the better of him momentarily. The images still haunted him. Sam rubbed his thumb comfortingly against Steve’s hand and just listened.

“Even just staying in Georgia on the road was another way for me to run. I could focus on staying alive, I didn't have to think about how I let my family die. I would meet people anyway. An archer named Clint who lost his wife and kids, an engineer named Tony from New York, a girl named Wanda whose twin brother died. I let them in, I was their friend and they all ended up dying. I didn't want to be responsible for that with you. It's why I was so mean in the beginning. I don't want to be responsible for anyone else dying. Least of all you.” Steve paused to chuckle incredulously.

“I don't know how I let you get to me like this.” Sam smiled ever so slightly at him.

“That’s what scared me the most. That’s why I was going to leave. I never planned to stay with you in New Wakanda. I was going to get you here and then go. That was always the plan, it never changed even when we did.”

“Wait, what?”

“I didn’t want to be responsible for you getting hurt but that happened anyway and a really wise guy told me leaving for your sake should be up to you, not me. So, if you say to go, I’ll go but if you want me to stay, I’ll stay.”

“I want you to stay but… I want you to stay ‘cause you want to.” Sam said, his voice cracking throughout the sentence.

“I want to be with you, Sam. I just—I don’t know how to.”

“You were doing a good job before at the spy’s house. I haven’t done this in a long time either. I’m afraid too but we can do this, together. Don’t go, please.” Steve reached up to gently caress Sam’s cheek, avoiding the minor cuts there.

“I’ll stay with you, I’m not leaving.” Steve promised, sealing it with a kiss to Sam’s forehead. He had failed before but he wasn’t going to fail again.

~*~*~

Epilogue:

Something was blaring in his ears.

Steve groaned as the alarm clock continued blaring away before he gathered the energy to smack the snooze button and flip the damn thing off. He groaned again as he sat up in the bed, rubbing at his sleep weary eyes.

“I don’t know why you brought that back with you from your last run anyway.” Sam muttered in the bed beside him, his face pressed into the pillow.

“I didn’t. King Thor from the Northern settlement gave it to me as a gift or something for helping with those rogues poaching on Asgardian territory.”

“Some gift.”

“Uh-huh. I gotta get ready though, Misty and I are supposed to go on a run.”

“You don’t sound enthused. Maybe you should just come back to the bed. I’m sure we can find something more entertaining to do.” Sam suggested, smiling up at him sleepily.

“You’re a bad influence. If I’m late Misty will kill me.” Steve replied but he slipped back under the covers and shifted closer to Sam’s warm body.

“Misty will be late too on account of Brett, so you and I have time for a proper goodbye.”

“I thought all of last night was a proper goodbye. Thanks to your goodbye, I can barely stay awake right now. Did you plan that?”

“Maybe. One year into married life, I feel like you shouldn’t have to ask anymore whether I plan these things. It’s not my fault you can’t resist my wily charms and good looks.” Steve rolled his eyes as he leaned down and pressed a kiss to Sam’s lips.

The years had passed in a quick fashion for them. They got married only a year after being together and a year after that neither could find a reason to regret the decision. Living in the post-apocalyptical world made a person extra time-conscientious and so they didn’t waste time. They knew they wanted to be together forever and so they made it happen. Steve had found his niche in the community by not always being in the community. He helped T’Challa and the other settlements to deal with any nefarious travelers on the road as well as pass along messages between the dominions and go on supply runs if he was needed. He got along well enough with the locals but he largely kept to Sam and his group of friends.

Steve’s friends didn’t haunt him anymore and he was never sure if he was happy about it or sad, most days. Sometimes he couldn’t decide whether they were ever real or not. Sometimes life still felt like a dream. He would walk past the schoolhouse or sit with Sam on movie or trivia night and wonder how something like this could exist with the world being as it was beyond the walls that protected them but then he would look at Sam and he would smile at him and somehow, impossibly, Steve wouldn’t care anymore. As long as he had Sam, he was alright living this crazy life.


End file.
